Jerry's Story:

 

I needed something or someone to blame it on. On some level I knew I was I was the one to blame but I didn't want to acknowledge it. It was all on me but there were circumstances I need to explain.

My name is Jerry Click. The guys in my outfit called me Hotdog but later after we got into combat that was shortened to just Dog. I'm not exactly sure why Hotdog. Maybe I did show-off a little.

The people at the VA hospital said I had PTSD. Post traumatic stress disorder. I don't think so but there was something wrong for sure. Right after I returned from Iraq I felt fine. Everything was great but it didn't last long.

My wife Mary was waiting for me with open arms and better yet, open legs. Mary and I had been sweethearts since high school. We married two months before I was deployed.

Sex with Mary was always good but since I had been gone she got even hotter. She seemed insatiable and nearly wore my cock off. Absence may make the heart grow fonder but in my case it made Mary's pussy wetter. She was after me night and day.

Mary is a beautiful girl. She is one of those delicate looking women who are a lot tougher than she appears. She was always an athletic girl and she stayed in shape. Mary keeps her dark red hair cut short. She's tall for a woman. Maybe five eight and she had a great set of tits. Her fun bags are a thirty-six C. I always felt lucky that she chose me to marry. Hell, she could have had her pick of boys.

It was Mary and Jerry since the tenth grade. Except for a couple of months just after high school when we broke-up for some stupid reason we were together all the time.

I suppose it wasn't stupid from Mary's point of view that we broke-up. She caught me playing stink finger with another girl behind the gym and that pissed her off for some reason. I think she got even because she dated every guy that asked her until we made-up again.

As I said, things seemed fine for a while then I blew-up at work and got fired. I found another job and damned if I didn't fuck that up. I didn't have any trouble finding another job and the one after that. Got fired from them so that was when I went to the VA hospital and heard about that PTSD shit.

Meanwhile the bills started piling up on Mary and me. She was a cashier at a discount store but that wasn't enough to keep up. Mary got a second job working part-time at night and still we got farther behind. It was maddening because I knew what I had to do but couldn't get my ass in gear to do it.

One evening while Mary was working I was sitting on the front porch waiting for her to come home. I was sort of surprised when a taxi cab stopped in front of our house. Mary always rode the bus because cabs were too expensive. I was even more surprised at who got out of the cab. It was Albert Byrd.

Albert, who everybody just called Byrd and sometimes Black Byrd, was in my platoon in Sandland. We were good buddies. Black Byrd came about because there was another Byrd in Bravo Company who was white.

"Byrd, what the hell are you doing here?" I yelled as he came up the walk. I ran to meet him.

"Can't a man come to see his old Army buddy?" He said and we did the manly hug thing.

"It's good to see you, Byrd," I said feeling myself becoming choked.

"Yeah man," he said. "I was in Mooreland for a few days and decided to come up here to see you while I was in a traveling mood. I spent a few days with Hawkins. Did you know he got married?"

"I did not know that," I said. "Hey, Byrd, I'm sorry I don't have any beer to offer you. Things are a little tight around here lately. We only buy what we have to buy."

"Don't sweat it man," he said and tapped me on the shoulder with his fist. That tap nearly knocked me to my knees. Byrd is six feet four inches tall and strong as a bull. He doesn't know his own strength. "I saw a store just down the block when I came in. Do they sell beer?"

I told him they did and he insisted we walked down there together because he said one man couldn't carry all the beer we needed. He bought two cases.

We were sitting on the front porch and four beers each into one case when I mentioned Hawkins getting married.

"Yeah, he got himself a real fox," Byrd said. "That gal is hot as hell and ready for action. Bitch loves to fuck, too."

"How do you know that?" I asked.

"Hawkins insisted I get some of her pussy," Byrd said with a laugh. "She didn't think it was such a good idea at first. Once that blonde bitch got a look at my black cock she was ready for some. Hawkins watched me fuck his wife for a while then he wanted some. We swapped her back and forth for a while then double fucked her until the bitch passed out."

"No shit?" I said and suddenly I had a mental image of big black Byrd fucking my Mary.

"No shit," Byrd said. "I hated to leave and she cried when I did. She was one smokin' hot piece of tail."

"Hawkins just let you fuck his wife?" I asked. "That's hard to believe."

"Not that hard," Byrd said with a grin. "Sooner or later every man finds he needs some help getting his old lady properly fucked. So how's, it going for you, man?" I found myself telling Byrd just how bad things were. I didn't mean to unload on him but I couldn't stop once I got started.

"Yeah, Hawkins had some trouble adjusting to civilian life," Byrd said. "A lot of guys came back all fucked-up. You need some cash?"

"What do you mean?" I asked him.

"I have a few bucks I could let you hold," Byrd said. "I fell into a pretty good gig."

"Yeah? What are you doing?"

"I'm a talent scout," he said. "Whoa, who's that coming up your walk?" It was Mary. I introduced them.

"It's nice to meet one of Jerry's Army buddies," Mary said taking Byrd's huge hand. "Excuse me, I have to go take a shower and get the stink of that store off me. I'll see you guys in a little while. Save me one of those beers, please."

"I was wrong," Byrd said after Mary had gone in the house. "Hawkins' old lady was not a real fox. Your wife is the real deal. How did a clod like you ever land a hot chick like her?"

"I do not know," I said. "Just lucky I guess. Talent scout? You mean like looking for singer or dancers?"

"Naw, I look for women who want to make a pile of money," he said. "My old sergeant when I was in Charlie Company has a stable and I recruit for him."

"He's a pimp?" I asked.

"Entertainment fascinator," Byrd said with a grin. "But a rose by any other name, huh? His name is Mackie and he's starting a specialized line. All white women to entertain the brothers. The minimum fee is five hundred dollars for an hour of fucking."

"I thought all whores fucked whoever came along," I said. "What makes his whores so special?"

"In the first place his women ain't whores in the normal sense. They are college girls, housewives, and lonely women looking to make some serious money. He operates under the name Mackie's Escorts and it's all legal. He even advertises in the newspapers but the word is out that he's got something special for the brothers that can afford it. It's the best job I've ever had, Dog."

"Where does Mackie have his girls?"

"Here in the city," Byrd said. "That's the reason I'm here. I was in Moorland to see if Hawkins' wife, Gina was interested in working for us. Hawkins called me a couple weeks ago and asked me to come and visit. She's in, by the way."

"Good for Gina," I said.

"What are you boys talking about?" Mary asked coming out onto the porch. She was wearing a terrycloth robe.

"I was just telling Dog about my visit with our old buddy Hawkins," Byrd said. Of course Dog had to be explained to Mary. She had never heard my Army nickname.

"Hotdog?" Mary said with a laugh. "It fits you, Jerry."

I went and got us all some beer. I found an old cooler to save on so many trips to the kitchen. I got back in time to hear Byrd telling Mary what he did for a living. I could tell Mary was a bit shocked but not as much as I would have expected.

"I pay a nice commission for any referrals that work-out," Byrd added. Mary asked what he meant. "If you hook me up with a woman and she goes to work for us I pay five hundred dollars each."

"Shoot, I know several girls at the store that I'll bet would be willing," Mary said.

"There are a lot of qualifications besides just being willing," Byrd said.

"Such as?" Mary said.

"They have to be pretty, not too old and not fat. A little chubby is okay as long as she's pretty. We try to keep the ages between eighteen and forty but the forty ain't a hard and fast rule. Eighteen is."

"I suspect they would have to like sex," Mary said. I found it hard to believe she was discussing it.

"No, but they have to do it," Byrd said. "The gals who love what they do make the most money. A man knows they like it and they'll get asked for again. Mackie has one older woman, nearly fifty and all the men she's with want her again."

"How much money does she make?" Mary asked.

"I don't keep up with that end of the business but I'd guess she makes a couple grand a week," Byrd answered.